Close Quarters
by WishUponAFangirl
Summary: After a tragic fire takes Tris' apartment and her baby, a group of boys offer their mansion's rooms to anyone who's apartment was burned in the fire. But when the a serial killer escapes from prison, putting everybody in the mansion in danger, what will Tris and Christina really think of the guests of Pedrad mansion? A/U. Modern Day. Eventual Fourtris, Chrill, Urlene and Sheke.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! Okay, so this is my first fanfic ON THIS ACCOUNT. I have another account on here, BUT YOU WILL NEVER KNOW! I don't own Divergent, Veronica Rath (I mean Roth. ;D) does! Rock on my Amities!**

Prologue

Fire. A damn fire ruined the house. All of the houses actually. Don't say it was karma, or an act of God. It obviously wasn't. Question is, why risk your own life? Either someone in the apartment was despicable enough to anger someone enough for him or her to set it on fire, or it was a suicide mission. Or maybe, just maybe, someone wanted us to move out. Well, it worked.

The Mayor saw it on the news. How could he not? All of China must have seen it. The nation-wide headline reading, "30 Story Apartment Building Burned to the Ground" was certainly interesting.

I am currently seated at a torn up Dinner, owned by my Godmother, Tori. Across from me is Christina, my best friend and old roommate.

"So, what can I get for you girls?" A lady covered in wrinkles who has been a loyal worker at the Dinner for some time, asks warily. I order scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee that is going to take forever to get here, and Christina orders the blueberry pancakes and orange juice so she can 'stay perky'. I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear before taking an involuntary trip to la-la land.

_Flashback_

_The sounds of sirens were not enough to wake me. It took my 2-year old puppy, Sullivan, jumping on top of me to bring me to my senses. His shaggy orange fur resembled the fire so much that, at first glance, I was afraid to touch him. Picking Sully up in my arms, I dashed for Chris's door, banging on it loudly. Christina had been my only friend out of collage, the only one who knew about my story. "CHRIS! Come on Chris WAKE UP!" She came bolting out of her room, wrapped in a nightgown, an annoyed look on her face than turned to fear as she saw the sight around her. "Oh my God." She muttered, before pulling me and Sully through the door and to the stairs. Too fast! My brain screamed as I tumbled down the stairs, landing on my stomach. Wait. _

_ "Christina!" I shouted. She turned around and looked at me. "Anastasia!" I sobbed. My baby, Anastasia. I had forgotten her. Thrusting Sullivan into Chris's arms, I hobbled up the stairs to my apartment, just in time to witness Annie's last cry. _

'_My baby;' I thought as Christina dragged me from the burning building. 'I lost my baby.' _

_End of Flashback_

"Tris. Tris. TRIS!" I am brought out of my daydreaming by my best friend snapping her fingers in front of my face. "What?!" I growled, in desperate need of my morning coffee. Christina put her hands up in surrender, her eyes wide, with that _I'm Innocent_ smirk painted across her face.

"Well," She starts cautiously. "I found us a place to stay." My eyes bulge, the newspaper in my hands fluttering to the ground.

"What? Where?!" I pounce, questions flowing from my mouth. Chris just sits there, fending off the stares of the everyday civilians enjoying breakfast goods. She carelessly sips her orange juice, running her fingernails through the base of her jet-black hair, which had recently been cut down to her shoulders.

"Christina." I growl, my voice low and dangerous. "Where." She exhales a mix between a sigh and a grown, a creaking sound that slightly resembled that of an old rocking chair.

"You are not going to like this." She warns. Exasperated, I pick at some of the eggs I had ordered that had gone cold a long time ago.

"Well," She pauses, studying my passive face. "There are a group of boys that are offering to take in anyone from the fire for free…" She trails off at the end making me nervous.

"Christina, what's the catch?" I ask softly. She cringes, worrying me even more.

"Well," She takes a deep breath. "It's… Tris, your brother is one of the boys."

Uh Oh.

**Taadaa! Hope you like it! Chapter Goal: 5-10 reviews. I know, it's short, but hey, it's a prologue!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! OMG, 5 review! Kay, I really hope you like this chapter! ;D**

**I do not own Divergent. :"''''''''''''''''(**

**Four POV**

"Hey mate, did you 'ear about that fire?" I wake to my best friend, Zeke, trying and failing a British accent. I give him that "Are you kidding me?" look, and he nods vigorously.

"Zeke, was there an actual fire?" I ask, sounding extremely incredulous.

"Yeah…" he trails off, indicating that he is, in fact, serious. I jump out of my warm bed, the thought of tragedy hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"Zeke!" I exclaim, trying to keep my nerve. "Really? When? Where? Who? W-" I am cut of by Zeke shoving a dirty sock in my mouth. "Just shut up and listen!" He shouts, exasperated. I nod, signaling for him to continue.

"Well, there was a fire down on Candor and 19th street. The apartment building burned to the ground, even killed one lady's kid." My eyes go wide, with both fear and empathy. That's what tragedy does to me. It burns me down, almost as fast as the building did on 19th and Candor.

After hours of pacing and painstakingly scraping our minds on ways to help those poor, poor souls **(This is an inside joke that none of you would get) **I finally came up with something.

"Zeke! We could offer space here!" I gesture around our mansion wildly. A grin creeps onto Zeke's face.

"That's brilliant, man!" he shouts, holding out his fist for a fist bump. "I'll go tell the other guys!" He screeches, scrambling out of the room to find Caleb, Will, Edward, Uriah and Max. After a conference about what to do, we decide to post it on anything we can. Now, all we have to do is wait.

**Tris Pov**

_Previously: Oh. No._

Oh. No. Oh God no. Not Caleb. He made it perfectly clear that he did _not_ want to be related to me the last time we saw each other.

"Christina…" I start, my tone warning her. "You better not be puling my leg." She sighs, taking baby-bites out of her blueberry pancakes. After some consideration, she breaks the silence.

"I'm not. But don't worry! The last time he saw you, you were pregnant. See? Big. Difference." She does have a point. I sigh, walking on the steep verge of giving in.

"But what if he does? He could kick me out, he could kick _you_ out, Chris!" She looks up, her hazel eyes trying hard to communicate something.

"If he kicks you out," She starts, a smirk slipping to her pancake covered face. "_I'll _kick his _ass_." I laugh louder then I have all morning. That was how our day went about, her nagging me, me going back and forth, until finally, we come to a decision. Eaton Abby, here we come.

The rope slips around me, binding me to the chair. Christina stands in front of me, a curling iron and a bottle of hairspray in her hands.

"No!" I plead. "Don't you _dare_ curl my hair! No. NOO!" She lunges forward, and attacks my hair. I slump, knowing it is useless.

"So tell me," I say. "Why are you killing my hair?" I question. She gasps, faking hurt.

"But I thought you liked my makeovers?" She asks uncertainly. I shake my head. "FINE!" She groans, giving in. " You can wear leggings." I sigh and attempt a victory dance.

"Uh, Chris? A little help here?" I suggest, wiggling against the rope. She chuckles but unties the rope. Which leaves me with myself and my conflicting thoughts on what to wear. Is there some sort of dress code for meeting the brother that cast you out and the people you will be living with until you can find a job? I thought not.

**OHMIGAWD, SORRY IT'S SO SHORT! I FEEL SO BAD! Well, gtg! Bye! **

**Chapter Goal: 10-15 reviews. OR 5-10 Favs/follows.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! I'm sorry I didn't update sooner. ****. I wanted to. So today I went to Barns and Nobel and got this TFIOS shirt with the 'okay's in the clouds! OHMUGUHHDD! YAY!**

**I don't own Divergent. Or do I? ;) ;)**

Sometimes the pain hits me like a ton of bricks-heavy, grousome and red- and sometimes I can keep it at bay. It took me 6 weeks to get over my child's death. A record. That's where I got my nickname, Six. That is what I am going to be known as at Eaton Abby, as I've desided to call it. Downton Abby also helped me get over Annie's death. But every now and then, the pain comes back, like a monthly period. Oh god, I would welcome a period with open arms compared to what I have to go through. I just hope the pain doesn't show at Eaton Abby.

"Come on, Chris!" I shout, dragging our suitcases out of the motel we've been staying in for the past 7 weeks. A sign hangs from the front of the store, giving it a rustic look. The place just screams 'Don't come here!'

"Coming!" She yells, dragging her abnormaly large sparkley pink suitcase out of the dated living space. "Oh god." She comments, looking around at our beat up surroundings. "Eaton's place is going to look like a palace compared to this." I can't help but nod in agreement. We walk, one foot in front of the other, to Chris's car, her un-hooking her keys from her belt as I lift her suitcase into her abnormally large car. When I get buckled in, Christina speeds away, driving at a _way_ to fast speed. She turns the knob on the radio, leaving our ears a hiatus of sounds, and an excuse to keep to ourselves.

Ever noticed how time goes fast when you need it to go slow? Well, here we are. We pull up to Eaton Abby, and the first thing that strikes me is the garden. A coy pond lies off to the back, where you can only see it if you are really looking. Pathways of small rounded black rocks graze the ground, giving onlookers the distinct theme of a maze. It's like a picture from Japan. The pathways and bamboo are distinctly Asian, and it blows me away. The next thing I see is the house. Well, it can't really be called a house. The stucco gives it a nice warm feeling, providing a cozy contrast to the fall wind and the distinct curved tile on the four-story house gives the Spanish style that I love. _No. _I think to myself. _Don't get attatched. You know your only staying untill you can find a place._ But somehow, I know this is not the truth. Somthing about this place makes me want to stay. The only things throwing me off are Eaton Abby's inhabitants.

The fealing of dread sinks into my stomach, like poison travaling throught the system. I think I am going to be sick, but I mask my pain for Christina's sake.

_Flashback_

_ I open the door and grin at my brother. He grins too, and reaches forward to give me a hug. I can't help but notice the forced feeling of his joy. After exchanging news about our daily lives, I sit down on the couch, waiting for Caleb to sit with me. As he does, I take a breath, preparing to explain._

"_Caleb…" I start, nervously fidgeting with the hem of my shirt "I'm… I'm pregnant!" His face drops, and so does my heart._

"_Beatrice! Have mom and dad taught you anything! Oh my god, how am I even related to you! If mom were her she would be ASHAMED!" After screeching nonsense for, like, five minutes, I am full on sobbing. And then, he left. It's not the fact that he disowned me, or made me cry. It was the fact that he left that really killed me._

_End Of Flashback_

This was it, I was finaly going to see him aftt so many years. What will it are like to look at him knowing his name when he won't recognize me? The perfect garden taunts me with its perfection, and m eyes slip to the butiful rock path, tiny sediments glimmering happily from their semented home. We walk to the front door, ringing the doorbell poltely. I hear shuffling from the other side of the door and butterflys erupt in my stomach. What if it's Caleb? The young man who opens the door is definatly _not_ Caleb. His cheeks are molded into dimples; his dark skin makes him look extremely tan, like someone you would see in beach comercials.

"Ah, so _you _are the last people to arrive." He says, amusment in his voice. He must sense the confusion on my face, so he quickaly explanes.

"Other people whose apartment's were destroyed got here before you. Come in, come in. I'm Uriah, by the way." He ushers us in, and I gasp, the sight taking my breath away. The door opens up to a grand staircase, branching off to the left and roght, each bend paired with double french doors, giving the house a cultured look and feel. Oh god.

Uriah leads us to a parlor occupied with people looking vaguely familiar. Some smile respectively, knowing what happened, and some give me blank stairs, like they don't want me to be there. This is going to be a long ride.

**Again, thanks for reading!**

**Goal: 15-20 reviews. **

**Peace Out!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Thank you Mojo (Guest) for your review! I loved it! I'm writing this at school in my amazing writing class! My friend Gwen will do the disclaimer!**  
><strong>Me: Gwen, will you do the disclaimer for my story?<strong>  
><strong>Gwen: What's a disclaimer?<strong>  
><strong>Me: * Face palms* It's when you say I don't own Divergent.<strong>  
><strong>Gwen: You don't own Divergent.<strong>  
><strong>Me: NOOOOOOOOOO!<strong>

Tris POV

It looks fake, like something you would see in a movie. The walls are painted lively colors, and looked as if they were made by smiling artists. The seating arrangements are crisp to perfection, and seemed as if they came out of an IKEA magazine. The thing that made the living room picture perfect was the people occupying it. Some were on the floor, some were standing up, and some were sitting, like normal people, on chairs made of plush covered bamboo. It made Eaton Abby all the more… well, Downton. (Hehe, sorry I love Downton Abby.) As we come in, Uriah scurries off to find someone, leaving us here alone with the strangers we will be living with.

The first thing I do is scan the room for Caleb. He has to be here somewhere. But, to my great surprise, he is not here. Should I be grateful or disappointed? Should I laugh or should I cry? I decide to keep my face blank, to not seem strange in front of these people. I realize that I have been staring and look at the ground, blushing. We all just wait there; studying our neighbors, maybe trying to analyze what is they have lost. After a long period of silence, Uriah returns, alone. Someone grows a pair and asks him.

"Umm, aren't there suppose to be more people with you?" Some guy asks. Uriah sighs and explains that 'The Gang' was _cooking_ and that introductions will be made at dinner. As Uriah shows Chris and I our room, I can't help but think, _since when did rich kids cook?_

Four POV

The alarm blares next to my head, reminding me that today was the start of another day, the end of another heartbreak. My eyes glaze over my room. It is large, but not to the extent of being unwelcoming. Great big windows provide natural light, and the laptop on my desk glistens, shadows reverberating it throughout the room and up the walls. Today is the day the guests come, and butterflies are erupting in my stomach. What if they are total dicks? What if they're all shuts who try to get into my pants? _No Tobias, stop it!_ I chat size myself. _You have to stop thinking like this. There is only one person that will ever love you, and she's gone because you pushed her away._I sigh, breaking myself from my thoughts, and head downstairs to help with cleaning.

_Zeke's girlfriend Shauna is in charge of the whole 'Lets Not Look Like Slobs' operation,_I think to myself as she thrusts a mop in my hand along with two pairs of fresh sheets.

"Four, you take the room down the hall from yours and across from Will's. You know, the one next to the Truth or Dare room." Shauna commands, smiling a bit as Zeke snakes his arms around her waist. I follow Shauna's directions, and come face to face with the oak wood door. I turn the handle, opening the door to reveal two beds, a couch a small vanity, and a flat screen T.V. The room looks like a hotel room, with its odd furniture choices and master bathroom. Still, the intricately carved mettle doors that open up to a balcony give the room character. I wonder who's getting this bedroom.

Tris POV

As much as I fight her, I can't escape the death grip of my best friend as she pushes me into a chair conveniently placed in front of the vanity inside the hotel room like space, a wild grin lit upon her face. I wish I could still smile like that.

"Christina Jane Morgan, do not, I repeat DO NOT even _think_ of putting me in a dress." This makes her grin grow even more.

"Too bad I'm not _thinking_ about it." She teases, pulling an object out from behind her back. The object is, in fact, a dress. It's red, the color slightly resembling a rose. The top is tight until just below my waist where it then flurries out, still a little too close to my legs then I would prefer. I have to admit, it is beautiful. It would be wasted on me. Still, I begin to yearn the feeling of beauty, even if it is a fake one only shown on the outside. There is only one person that can truly make me beautiful, but he is long gone. I drove him away.

"Christina," I begin, tearing my eyes from the delicate silk. "If I wear this, you have to promise that not a single make up brush will touch my face." A grin slowly spreads across her face, and she lets out a small squeal before nodding vigorously. She pushes me into the bathroom, shoving the dress and a pair of brown combat boots in after me.

The last thing I see before heading down the grand staircase for dinner are the intricately carved metal doors leading out to a balcony in our room, an aspect I had looked over at first glance of our living quarters.

**Goal: 25 reviews.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh my god, ohmigawd you guys!**

**32 reviews, that's the grand prize!**

**I am so happy that I decided to write you guys,**

**Oh my god, you guys.**

**Hey, I'm back! Thank you so much for all the kind reviews! Thank you guest (or guests) for reviewing so much! Do you get the song reference? Yes? No?**

**Anyways, I don't own Divergent, so lets get on with the story!**

Four POV

_The smell of caramel wafts through the house, my nose picking up the familiar sent of sugary molten butter like a child picks up a present. Subconsciously, my feet move to the kitchen door, peaking my head through, just to witness my beautiful Bea making Carmel apples. Her favorite apron is tithed haphazardly around her waist, a golden drop of sugar fluttering through the kitchen light, landing just barely on her nose. I smile. I smile, my lips cracking up into a carved out, fleshed out, sliver of happiness. I didn't savor that moment like I should have. How could I know she would leave?_

I snap back into the real world and direct my attention to the object that caused the flashback in the first place. Marlene stands in the kitchen, submerging apple-impelled sticks in–you guessed it right folks– caramel. Uriah, Marlene's boyfriend, stands behind her whispering sweet nothings in her ear and stealing fingers of caramel when she isn't looking. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, the memory triggering so much pain it hits me on either side, keeping me upright and condensing me until I turn to dust. This is what I worry about when the pain hits. I worry that when it lifts, when I am not wallowing in the moment, I will crumble to the ground. So I run. And run. And run. I run until I reach the park half a mile away, the one I used to stare at as a depression-ridden child, the park I used to gaze at and dream about a better life there. The perimeter serves as a nice track. I ran it to the ground. Dirt flies behind me, and instead of the rebound tripping me, it only propels me faster. I run and run, until there is dirt in my shoes, my armpits are damp, and the aching in my lungs is enough to mask the aching of my heart.

I've been out to long. That is the only thing I can gather from the absolute ruckus coming from inside the house.

"He's ran off again!" Says Edward, his Australian accent coating his words with a rather high pitch.

"What? Why would he do that!" That must be Uriah, the only person in the house stupid enough to not see what is clearly in front of him: My disappearance.

"Uriah, we all know why." Marlene reprimands him. But it's true, after one too many drunk truth or dare rounds, my brain had given me no reason _not_ to tell them why grey-blue eyes make me cry.

"What? Why?!" That would be our nerdy friend, Caleb, who always seems to be hiding something. He isn't that into party games. Thank god, that's one less person to know about Bea. Before they can tell him, I strep out, lies of where I had been developing in my head.

"It's really nice outside today." _Wow, nice save Tobias._ "I mean, the run I took was phenomenal." I cover. They all turn, their faces braying shock and disbelief, but knowing they won't get any information out of me, they let it go. Relieved, I bound outside, and am greeted by a mass of orange fur, slightly resembling a pumpkin. The dog we got from the pound a week ago. His name is Sullivan.

Tris POV

As I climb down the stairs, my legs push my weight up to the upper half of my body, as to not put so much force on the perfectly polished wood. The delicious smell of food wafts it's way to my nostrils, making my mouth water and my breathing speed up from anticipation. _This is the moment you've been waiting for all day_, I think to myself, reaching out to the wall, the only thing keeping Caleb and me apart, for support. The consistent brown paint that is laid upon it is still there after my wave of weakness, it's steady reliability providing comforting thoughts, and the knowledge that everything will still be here after dinner, that Caleb won't recognize me, that I must trust logic. _Yeah, that's sure great logic._I think, the ghost of a reassured smile planted on my lips. _Taking Advice from a wall._

"Tris?" Christina's slightly bemused voice brings me out of my trance. "Why are you talking to a wall?" My face morphs from confusion to realization, to horror.

"I-I said that out load?" I ask, blush heating my cheeks. Christina sighs dramatically, placing her hands on her hips in annoyance.

"Yes, Tris. You." She points to me, "Just talked to a wall." I face palm, and allow a hungry Christina.

Suddenly, I come to a halt. My breath hitches, my eyes go wide like saucers, and my hands clam up. He stands there, lighting candles, his hair that is resembled so closely to our mothers ruffled just like it was the last time we met. His geeky thick glass pushed up to the bridge of his nose, and when he turns around as Chris makes our presence known, his big puppy dog eyes shine like green embers. Caleb.

**Haha! Surprise twist! I know its kind of un realistic that Tobias knew Tris before, but I really needed it for later on in the story. :D I'M REALLY SORRY IF THIS CHAPTER WAS SHITTY! IT WAS REALLY HARD TO WRITE THIS CHAPER! I PROMISE, THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE SUPER LONG! Thank you all so much for all of your kind reviews! Next update will contain shout outs to anyone who reviews!**

**Goal: 40+ reviews. (Anyone Who Reviews Gets a FREE SHOUT OUT!)**


	6. Chapter 6

**HOLY SHIT, 50 REVIEWS, I AM DIEING HERE! 44 FOLLOWERS, I'M ON TOP OF THE WORLD! :""""""""D**

**Okay, so my costume just won a costume at my book club! YAY! You might just die laughing when you hear what it is. I'm so proud of it! **

**And now, the thing you have all been waiting for, shout outs! (In order of time reviewed)**

**_SelfishBraveDivergent_****: Thank yo so much! This makes me feel really confident about my writing. And no, I do not doubt you. P.S: Your review got my story another page. You, as the first reviewer, are on page 2.**

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_**Guest Who Left 10 Reviews in Different Languages: **_**THANK YOU SO MUCH! When I saw these reviews, I was like, "OHMYGOD, PEOPLE CARE THIS MUCH?!".**** BabyCrocodile, this was you, right? DAUNTLESS CAKE TO YOU!**

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**_Other Guest: _Yeah! You ARE reviewing!**

**_FaultInOurDivergentGames:_ I will continue, and DO YOU REALY THINK THIS IS ORIGINAL?! THAAAAAANK YOUUUUUUUUU!**

_**Lynda Loyde:**_** THANK YOU FOR AGREEING WITH ME! AAAWW, Shucks! Do you really think the writing is brilliant?**

**_Idshipus007_: They do know each other! I'll try to make my chapters longer.**

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**Thank you all for your love and support of this story, enjoy this chapter!**

**I don't own Divergent.**

Recap:

_Caleb._

My stomach churns with anxiety, my stare trailed to the floor as my shoes become more interesting then the young man- I refuse to call him my brother, now that I see he is getting Along nicely without me- in front of me.

"Hello, I'm Christina and this is..." Christina trailers off at the end of her introduction, nudging me to incline my name to Caleb's awareness. More simply put, she wants me to tell him my name. I look up as I speak, studying a potted plant East of his face.

"Six." I say in my most bad ass tone, hiding my nerves behind nail polish blackened nails and illusions of intimidation. Caleb smirks slightly, him obviously knowing something I don't. The North bound tilt of his lips should have been grazed by, but it only sent my heart reeling, pounding to the steady beat of an imaginary drum. What if he recognizes me? What if he can see through my mask?

I stare at the odd shaped montage of purple, the house plant that is providing me an excuse from glancing at my once-brothers eyes. Tears weld in my eyes, and I stretch my arms in a feeble attempt to cover the soon to be tears. Hiding tears is a skill I adapted long ago. Ten months ago to be exact. I have learned how to stand upright when your only desire is to collapse upon the ground and water the earth with your tears. I have learned the many loopholes of life, you know the ones that make dodging personal questions like avoiding a grain of sand. Yet Caleb's one facial expression was almost enough to knock down the barriers I had worked so hard to build up.

Sensing my discomfort, Caleb explanes.

"What's with you people and numbers?" At first, the question confuses me, but the overwhelming sense of relief coursing through my veins is enough to overpower any other lingering thoughts. He didn't recognize me. Thank the Lord up above, he didn't recognize me.

"I'm Caleb, by the way." He says. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a brief look of realization cross Christina's face. Did she seriously not recognize him?

_ Hey Caleb, _I think. _Hope you haven 't forgotten about me. Because even though I hate you, you may still be my brother.__  
><em>

Too bad he can't hear me.

* * *

><p>After that embaracing encounter, Caleb leads us to the dining room, where we are the last ones to arrive, with the exceptions of the other hosts, or course, who are still in the kitchen. The air is fregrant, spices weaving their way through the large room, printing the sent of Apple Cider in my nostrils. The table has been set, and though it is not the fancy array of perfectly spaced tea spoons I had expected, it is not the sloppy mess I would have put together. The plates are a simple white glaze, the glasses of water were normal to say the least. Nice.<p>

"Hey! Welcome to Eaton Manner!" A lady steps out of what I presume to be the kitchen, and smiles at us. Her features are soft, but at first glance, that softness is angular on her pointed face. Very pretty. Her hair is cut close to her scalp, styled up into a pixie cut. She seems nice.

A boy steps up behind her, him looking shockingly simular to Uriah. He puts a finger to his lips, signaling an upcoming mischief. He creeps closer to her and hovers his hand over her black beanie. In a blur it is off her head, and the boy is on the ground.

"Give. Me. Back. My. Hat." She hisses between clenched teeth. I feel a strange tug of guilt just standing there, my selfless up bringing begging me to go help her. So I do.

I creep up behind both peoples so their backs are turned to me. Slowly, I inch forward, imitating the boy, and sliped the hat from under their wrestling bodies. Quickly, I scurry back to my seat, not wanting to be caught so far along in my plan. What was my plan? Maybe I wanted to show them not to mess with me. Yeah, that sounds right.

They are still wrestling on the floor for a hat that isn't even there when I decide to make a good impression. The girl hadn't done anything wrong, and seems to _really_ love her hat. The other guests are either glancing to me with eye brows cocked, or peering at the interesting scene in front of them with curiosity written all over their faces. I rise from my chair for the second time today, nervous that this time, I will be caught. When I reach the wrestling host's, I gently tap her shoulder and wait for her to turn around. When she does, she looks slightly embraced by the fact she had been wrestling with the guy for minutes.

"Here." I say, handing her the hat. Her eyes widen is surprise.

"H-how did you get that?" She asks, her words stumbling out of her mouth, adding a breathless stutter to her wonder.

"Magic." I smirk. Though I am joking around, I am trembling inside. This is all just to much. My head starts spinning, so I hurry over to my chair. Once safe in the serenity of the soft, padded chair, I notice the absence of light from the kitchen. I direct my attention to the open doorway, and find a mass of bodies flooding the door. And Caleb explaining to them what happened. And a look of awe lit upon their faces.

* * *

><p>Soon, I have learned two things. One, the boy who looked like Uriah is, in fact Uriah's brother and the girl, who aparently isn't as nice as she seemed at first, is named Lynn. Two, Jack Puppon is the best cook in the world. As stew is spooned onto our plates, Lynn thanks me for the second time.<p>

"Thanks again, Six. This little shit," She points to Zeke. "Is constantly trying to ruin my life." She looks around dramatically, as if portraying a secret, and stage whispers, "What he doesn't know is, he ruined my life, just by being alive." The table laughs, and Zeke sits pouting. Maybe I can make friends here.

As I pour myself a glass of wine, a question brings me out of revive.

"Did I hear your name is Six?" I hear a gravely low voice ask. I nod as I look, and when my eyes shift to the face of the stranger, my breath catches in my throat. My eyes bulge. My heart speeds up. Because I recognize those eyes. Dark blue, deep enough to get lost in, un-mistakable. Tobias.

**Longest chapter ever! I know, it's still only like, 1,450 words, but hey! On my other account, it was a stretch to write 700 words! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Goal: 60 reviews (The more I get, the faster the next update will be).**

**The author of my favorite review on this chapter will get to hear what my halloween costume is early!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you all so much for your kind reviews! FaultInOurDivergentGames, your review made me laugh so hard! Guest and Lynda Loyde, your reviews made me smile. AubreyLovesTheGames, thank you. Every other reviewer, I read EVERY review on the story, so don't feel like you didn't help. You did! I just don't have the stamina to write out responses to every review right now.**

**BabyCrocodile, your review was my favorite, so PM me to find out my costume!**

**The rest of Y'all have to wait 'till friday! I don't own Divergent, all credit goes to VR.**

It isn't Tobias. It cannot be. I know it's been almost a year since I've seen him, but the boy in front of be with bulging muscle, and a face like stone, rigid, seeming as if a single smile would crack his face, cannot be Tobias. But what a face it is. His nose is long and narrow, but in an attractive way. Like Tobias. His eyes are deep into his head, his eyelashes just begging to be touched. Like Tobias. And his eyes; dark blue, ready to get lost in, the most enticing part about him... just like Tobias.

As I realise that all conversation has halted, that all eyes have been focused in on me, and that I had been staring, I clear my throat. I am irritated at myself for seeming a fool. For dancing the barrier of good impressions and braking it, like glass shattered on a floor.

"Yeah," I clarify, carelessly sipping out of the crystal wine glass in front of me. "Yeah, my name is Six. What's yours?" His eyes, joking a moment before, turn hard and cold for a reason i cannot decipher, and his face grim.

"What makes you think you can talk to me?" This is definitely not Tobias. Tobias could never be so cruel. I don't want to make a sarcastic response because I would have reacted the same way, had it been a personal question, but after the staring accident, I need to keep my mask up more than ever. I need to let them know that I am Six, that I am toughf, that I don't take any shit from anybody, especially not from stuck up know it alls.

"It must be because you're so approachable." I remark, an arrogant smirk lit upon my face. "You know. Like a bed of nails." This earns a couple of wolf whistles, and I have to will my cheeks not to light on fire, his piercing eyes meeting mine half way across the table. I can't help but notice his lips tugging down into a confused frown. I can't help but feel proud that I carved emotion onto this stone replica of Tobias.

Throughout dinner, I could catch only a few of the sideways glances thrown at me by Caleb, but then again, neither could I ignore him. His brown puppy dog eyes sparkle with what I can only presume is a thirst for knowledge, putting my stomach in knots. I am torn. What do I do if he recognises me? Will it hurt me even more if the wary wrinkles of a childless mother are enough to mask me from those who I have spent my whole life with? Will I-

_Ding, Dong!_

The sound of a door bell breaks any lingering thoughts on recognition and betrayal, and leaves me to wrack my brain on why anybody would be at the door after dark. Today was a friday, no doubt, because Starbucks had given me a free coffee earlier this morning, as an 'End of the Week' special. It was late October.

Or was it November? October... what happens in October...

"Oh my god, I total forgot to tell you T-Six! It's Halloween!" Christina's outburst causes all peoples eyes to fall on me. Again.

"Wait, you forgot it was Halloween?" Zeke asks, an incredulous look spread across his face. I nod, my thoughts flurrying like dandelion fuss being blown upon a wind. Halloween? How could I forget it was Halloween?

"Oooh! Does this mean I can dress her up?!" A preppy girl, whose name I had gathered to be Marlene shouts. After sensing my confusion, she explains. "Remember when you were a kid and you want door to door Trick or Treating? So in our neighborhood, after 8:30 the adults go out, scavenging more... adult candies. One house handed out little bottles of Tequila last year." The thought of repeating a child practice brings my mind away from the problems at hand, and I let a smile creep up to my face.

"Come on. Lets get you a costume."

* * *

><p>My hair can be compared to a hornets nest under the pink plush hat. It wraps around my head, steadying itself with a pink velcro at the back of my neck. I have to admit, Christina did do a good job with my pig make up. The pink smokey eye that reaches up to my eyebrow is certainly a detour from my usual black CoverGirl eyeliner. Sparkles outlining my face give me a glow under certain lights, casting out my pale complexion. As I sit on My bed, waiting for the other girls in the mansion to 'Find Christina's Soul Costume', I am surprised to find Lynn sitting beside me.<p>

"Don't mind Four." She says, referring to the one I thought was Tobias. "He can sometimes be a dick, but he's a nice guy once you get to know him." I am surprised by Lynn's words, as they seem to be an act of peacemaking, but stay silent, wanting to pertain to any calm side of this wild girl that I can.

"Ready to go?" Christina pops back into the room wearing a skirt a bit too short to be acceptable, and a pair of plastic wings. A fairy.

"Yeah Chris." I respond. "Ready to go."

* * *

><p>The stench of alcohol wafts through the air, giving forgotten candy wrappers littered on the streets a sinister look. Four walks slightly in front of us, him seeming agitated for a reason I fail to read. Surely he wouldn't still be sulking since I told him off. Would he? After one too many drinks from random strangers, whose names my drunk accomplices cared not to speak, my purse is full of things that would surely leave a pounding headache in the morning. No,drinking on October 31st isn't exactly what I call smart. At the mansion, our parting of ways is met with silence. Am I really the only one who is sober enough to talk? If I scream to the earth the sorrows of my forbidden mind, would my words bear the lingering scar of acceptance upon all those who cared to listen? No, on nights like these when I am the only one around to bear the weight of the world, I am once again reminded that I live in a solitary forest, where I am ugly enough to forbid the whispers of the trees. That I am alone.<p>

Plop! The noise of the Vodka lid snapping just propels the liquid down my throat. I had tried to find the back yard, but had gotten lost in the maze of winding hallways, and eventually found this balcony that stretches to the West of the house. I had begun drinking in a sitting position, but now I lay sprawled on the ground, the salt water drips on my face freezing as they come in contact with the unforgiving marble floor. The burning in my throat only blurs my vision even more, with what I feintly recognise to be tears. I slowly let myself drift off into oblivion. Sadly, the dim light of the moon is not enough to keep away my nightmares.

**Wow. That was a downer, right? So anyways, my costume! I was a...**

**A Pork Taco!**

**Goal: 78 reviews.**

**Luv ya guys!**


	8. Chapter 8 Teaser Chapter

**Attention: Please go to Fourtris18's story 'Fixing The End' and review. If you do, and I see that you guys have posted many kind reviews, I will update faster!**

**Hey guys! I'm sorry, I truly am. This is not a chapter but it is a "next CHAPTER TEASER!", so it's not as long as a chapter, but it's close! I'm so sorry, I just need to take a kind of 'break'. I'll be back with the full chapter in a few days, so please don't hate me!**

**Disclaimer: "**I do own Divergent! Wait! No! Haha, no it was a joke, please, I'll give you anything!**" * Gets carried away by the FBI ***

The sound of sobbing brings me out of sleep. They are constant and bring a scowl to my face. Ever since dinner when I unexpectedly snapped, I have been beating myself up over the fact that I thought it was Bea. She looks like Bea. She sounds like Bea. But Bea would never say something like that. Apparently, my little outburst upset the rest of the group, so I decided to go to the guest room, where they can't find me and I can get some sleep. Or, at least try to get some sleep.

One. Two. Three. Who is this sobbing? Extremely annoyed at the fact that, after a long, drunk night, I am being lulled from the warm comfort of my bed, I use the sobbing as a GPS, following the sound that has become white noise by now. it seems to be com ing from the balcony.

"Hello?" I call out, unsure how to approach. Soon, my hesitant feet have carried me to the balcony, and the sobbing trails off, soon lulling to a series of ragged breaths. I peak across the corner, and am amazed as there is a figure asleep on the ground. I cannot see her face,but her petite figure suggests femininity. I cannot tell who she is, but can infer that she is, in fact, one of the guests. I creep around her, trying desperately to see her face. When I do, I wish I hadn't because my gasp rings through the air loud and clear.

It is the girl from dinner. The moon casts long shadows down her face and there are broken bottles littering the ground. Her hair is knotted and spread behind her like a halo. Suddenly, her eyelashes flutter, but before I am able to catch a glimpse at her captivating gray eyes, I take off.

I wonder what would have happened if I stayed? Would I have been able to help her, would she forgive me for being a dip-shit at dinner? I wonder, I wonder, I wonder without knowing. Without knowing what would have happened if I grew up with a normal family, if I hadn't drove Bea away, if I hadn't left that girl, Six, laying out on the moon-swept balcony. It is not our accomplishments, but our regrets that make us.

* * *

><p>Beep! Beep! Beep! The alarm erupts into a burst of constant beeps, waking me to the feeling of an unfamiliar bed. At first, I panic, that I am still in the bed of my childhood house, but as I blink sleep out of my eyes, I realize I am in the guest room.<p>

I groan as I pull myself out of bed, only propelled by the thought of rising before any of my drunken friends. It is 6:00, and today, knowing her, Christina is going to force us to make more 'in-depth' introductions. I pull on my favorite band T-shirt, my Green Day one, and some blue, nondescript jeans. I trudge down the stairs, careful to avoid the ones that creak, and am comforted by the thought of the bakery down the street. Finally at the bottom of the stairs, I tip-toe through the living room to the kitchen. There, I fish a pen from the drawer and a piece of paper from the cabinet.

Dear Friends,

I'm going to be at Cake Crumbs picking up breakfast. If you need medicine for your hangovers, I think I left it out in the bathroom.

Thanks!

-Four.

After quickly placing the note on the table, I head to the back door and grab the leash. After making sure Sully is ready to go with me, I fast walk to the bakery, the promise of scones tempting me to go faster. When I reach the bakery, the first thing I see are hordes of people crowded around a newspaper stand. An then, when I am a bit closer, I can see the headline written in bold lettering.

**_Brutal Murderer Escaped from Prison._**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Tadaa! Do you like it? Again, I'm so, so sorry. I am a despicable human being.<strong>

**Okay, so my crush doesn't talk much, right? Well, one of my BFFs carpools with him, right? So she asked him if he likes Green Day ('cause I told her too) and he said yes! OHMYGOD MY CRUSH LIKES GREEN DAY!**

**QOTD: Do you like Green Day? If so, what is your favorite Green Day song?**

**AOTD: How the Hell can you even ask that? Of COURSE I like Green Day! In fact, I don't like them, I LOVE THEM!**

**ANYBODY WHO ANSWERS THE QOTD GETS A SHOUTOUT!  
><strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Oh. My. God. You guys,you are the best. I am on the 22nd page if sorted by reviews! Yaaaay! Do you think there is any way we could ever get to the 20th page? It would only take, like, 8 reviews! I love you guys. Please read the SPECIAL NOTE FOR Y'ALL AT THE BOTTOM!**

**Disclaimer: "**I do own Divergent! Wait! No! Haha, no it was a joke, please, I'll give you anything!**" * Gets carried away by the FBI ***

_Recently:_

_After quickly placing the note on the table, I head to the back door and grab the leash. After making sure Sully is ready to go with me, I fast walk to the bakery, the promise of scones tempting me to go faster. When I reach the bakery, the first thing I see are hordes of people crowded around a newspaper stand. An then, when I am a bit closer, I can see the headline written in bold lettering._

**_Brutal Murderer Escaped from Chicago Prison._**

* * *

><p>The first thing I can think to do is to get closer. My mother always did say I had a knack for curiosity, and I guess she was right.<p>

"Excuse me, pardon me." I called, trying to split the crowd of early birds astray from their morning workouts. Eventually, I find myself a great deal closer to the stand, close enough to finally read the paper.

_"The media was alerted late last night," says reporter Scot Terrino **(Fake, made up name, any resemblance to actual names, places or franchises is purely co)**, "That an uproar occurred inside the Chicago Federal Prison." Remarks Terrino. "We are still in the dark as to which of the prisoners it was that escaped. Officials believe that, although a pressing matter to suvilians at the moment, information is classified." _

Classified?! How can such important information be classified?! At first, I am tempted not to believe it, to think it is just some sick joke, because the fear of- _stop it Tobias! You are not under his control anymore! You turned him in! _

I step up to the man selling papers and remove a crumpled five dollar bill from my pocket. The man stares at me like I've lost my mind. I guess not too many young men buy the paper.

"One copy of The New York Times please."

The man moves to the back of his cart, his black eyes never leaving mine. A gust of wind blows at my legs and I shiver as it makes contact. The man moves painstakingly slow, and I can feel my anger boiling up and mixing with my frozen. Does this man always keep his customers waiting?

"Hey, could you speed it up buddy?" The man turns and grits his teeth, his eyes slanting. That's when I notice that his eyes aren't black.

They're dark blue.

Fear bubbles up inside of me, shorting my nerves, stunning my mind because I _know_ those eyes. I've lived with those eyes for the majority of my minority.

I know what prisoner escaped from the Federal. The man's hands are finally grasping the paper and as he hands me the paper, I back away at the sight of his scarred hands. They are rugged and knotted, looking as if one more punch would split his knuckles into irreplaceable shape.

"Are you gonna take the paper, boy?" His voice is dangerously low, as if he's warning me, warning me to back away.

"Um, you know, not today." I say, briskly turning in the other direction, completely deserting food as it has become a mere idea. I hear him clear his through, but pretend to ignore it.

"I _said_ are you gonna take the paper boy!" I keep walking, even though I know I need to turn around, and it's like I'm trapped. It's like I'm trapped in my own horror, one where I fall under his reign again, where I am found being too stupid and too scared to turn around, to stand up. I hear his footsteps. He's left the newspaper cart. They get closer, and closer, until they are the only thing I can hear and I finally start running.

* * *

><p>Thank god Marcus is an old man fresh out of the slammer, because if he weren't, I'd be dead. Literaly. I run. And run. And run. I know I've lost him but all I can hear is his voice echoing in the hallows of my mind. I pass one street. Then the next. Then the next. I run until I find myself on Holly and 25th st., the scketchiest part of town.<p>

I shiver from the cold and shrink back from the longing glares the homeless send me, bidding the sun to come up and out of hibernation. I pass an ally-way and hear glass crunch beneath my feet. The gaping mouth in-between the two buildings echo's with soquicklybs, and I catch a swift and distinct whiff of smoke. Removing my phone, I quickly turn on the flashlight, not realizing how potentially stupid I am being. At the end of the ally lies a girl hunched over a notebook. That's when I realize that this girl is, once again, Six.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey guys! I know it's short, but the holidays are crazy! I got a Starbucks cup, Divergent Barbies and... my first laptop! Yay!<strong>

**Shout outs too...**

**baby1327! Your awesome! That makes sense though. **

**pennstate13 You wrote the first response!**

**FactionDistrictDemiGod I love them too!**

**ValkyrieCain133 I know, right?**

**Guest May29 Thank you so much for pointing it out. I went back and changed it after I saw your review. Thank you so much for caring!**

**AubreyLovesTheGames You didn't even answer the QOTD, but your awesome, so you get a shout out anyway!**

**FourTris18 OHMYGODILOVETHATSONG!**

**Kayla101 You really do love this fic? :D**

**Thank you for answering my QOTD! **

**Special Note:**

** I began this fic wondering if I could ever get to 50 reviews. In a matter of five chapters, I got there. I have been more successful here than anywhere else with my writing, and you guys are the ones that made it happen. I love you guys. So without further ado...**

**HAPPY**

**Hanukkah**

****Diwali****

******Ramadan******

********Christmas********

**********Kwanzaa**********

************Chinese New Year************

************I'm sorry if I missed any! I love you guys. XD************

************Goal: 92-95 reviews.************

************IMPORTANT! ************

************ANYBODY WHO REVIEWS WILL GET A SPECIAL HOLIDAY PM AND A SHOUT OUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER. ************


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